I was born on an ordinary day.The sky was clear, it was a Saturday, March 17th, around six in the evening. My parents always said I didn't cry much, that I wasn't a noisy baby or one of those who caused constant trouble. They said I was quiet. At the time, that seemed normal. After my sister was born, it stopped seeming normal. Babies are loud. They feel everything intensely, hunger, discomfort, sleep, anything becomes emotion. I wasn't like that.
I don't know exactly when I realized something about me was different, but by the time I was five, it was already there. I was sitting in the living room, messing with my remote-controlled car. I wasn't really playing. I was opening it, taking it apart, trying to understand how it worked. Why pressing a button made the car move. Why that signal caused that response. It wasn't curiosity for fun. It was a constant need to understand why things happened the way they did.
My father noticed and asked:
— Jesse, why are you messing with the remote-controlled car?
The question confused me. To me, the answer was obvious.
— I want to know how it works.
He laughed, said something like "oh, son," and smiled at me. I watched that smile for a few seconds, trying to understand what it meant. I didn't. Back then, I didn't understand the meaning of many things. Much later, I would learn those were emotions. Human emotions.
My parents took me to doctors early on. I was slow to grasp certain social behaviors, but I could imitate well enough. I looked like a shy kid, maybe a little delayed. Nothing suspicious. No diagnosis. Life went on.
As I grew older, I started understanding things on my own. By reading. Psychology didn't come from curiosity alone, it came from necessity. I knew something about me was wrong, and I also knew that if I didn't understand it early, I could end up somewhere dangerous. So I studied. Psychology, human behavior, disorders, limits. I didn't read to fix myself. I read to control myself.
Anatomy came after that. Bodies made more sense than people. Structure, function, consequence. I went to libraries, read whatever I could find, then started searching online. That world held my attention completely.
By the time I was ten, I had already read more than two hundred books on psychology and human anatomy. I liked Sherlock Holmes a lot, the idea of reading expressions, predicting reactions, understanding people through details. I tried to turn that into a skill. I never reached his level, but I became good enough.
Over time, I learned how to imitate emotions. Not feel them, but reproduce gestures, tones of voice, expected reactions. That kept me normal for a long time. I had friends, family, and even a girlfriend. The prettiest girl in school. I liked her for a simple reason: she was beautiful. Beauty always caught my attention. Symmetry, proportion, the way everything on her face seemed to be in the right place. She didn't need makeup or effort. She was elegant, easy to look at, and I felt something pleasant just by watching her.
I learned early that appearance matters. If you're ugly in a society that judges by appearance first, you don't grow. So I took care of myself. Diet, training, routine. My body became toned, muscles shaped by regular workouts. I have a square face, brown slightly curly hair, and honey-colored eyes when the light hits just right.
At twenty-one, I worked the night shift at a convenience market. I liked it because it was quiet and I didn't have to deal with too many people. During the day, I studied psychology at college. I was in my third year and planned to finish soon.
Relationships came and went. I always tried to end things on good terms, even though I never fully understood why people became so devastated when something ended. Once, I was cheated on. I didn't feel anger. I felt confused. She wanted me to be mad, to react. It seemed important to her. It didn't make much sense to me.
At night, I read. Psychology, medical reports, clinical texts, anatomy of the human body and others as well. I also read manga, novels, fanfics. I dove deep into Japanese, Chinese, and Korean culture. Fantasy started to catch my interest.
One book series in particular: Harry Potter.I hadn't cared much about it as a child, but now I found it interesting. The world had flaws, plot holes, strange choices, but it still felt like an interesting place to live in.
That night, while I was reading something related to Harry Potter for the fifteenth time, another random fanfic, a customer entered the store. I closed the book, removed my glasses, and looked up. He was wearing a hood, a black jacket, hands in his pockets. His steps were unsteady, shoulders tense. Something felt off. When he got closer, I saw the blade.
— Give me everything. This is a robbery.
I stayed calm. Took the money from the register and handed it over. He stared at me for a few seconds.
— I want it all. The safe too.
I told him I didn't have the password, only the manager did. He kept talking, but I wasn't listening anymore. I already knew he wasn't leaving. So I reacted. I threw a box at him, jumped over the counter, and kicked his leg. He stumbled, fell, and dropped the knife. I took advantage of that, immobilized one arm, then the other, and locked him in a chokehold. I counted to ten in my head, then released him. He was unconscious. Perfect.
I picked up my phone to call the police. The door opened.
— Freeze!
I turned around. A police officer. He misunderstood everything. Maybe because I wasn't wearing a uniform. He panicked and fired. The bullet hit my chest, most likely my heart. I didn't feel pain.
Now I see everything from the outside. My final moments playing like a video. A waste. I still had so much to do. I died in a really sad way, if that's how people describe it.
As I watch, something approaches. An orb of light that turns into a figure made of light. It says a huge number, something like 7544819. Says I've been rewarded, that I have a chance to reincarnate. Or isekai, as we call it.
Gods are strange.
It explains things calmly, like this is routine. Then it asks if there is a world I'd like to reincarnate into. I already know the answer.
— I want to reincarnate in the world of Harry Potter. But with some changes.
It looks interested.
— And what changes would those be?
I explain. A larger world, maybe three times the size of Earth, same countries, same era. Magic not limited to Great Britain. More wizards at Dumbledore's level, more spells, more creatures, more things to discover. A grander world.
It smiles.
— I like your idea.
As compensation, it offers me a small wish, something basic to help me. I think for a moment and tell it to choose for me. A god should know better.
— Perfect. I know exactly what to do.
A portal opens beside it and I'm thrown inside. As I fall, I feel something unfamiliar. Motivation. Something new. I don't know exactly what it is.
But it's different.